Pepper Potts' Plan for Falling Out of Love
by chocolatemooses
Summary: Or Tony's Stark's Plan for ruining Pepper's Plan. Pepper is determined. Tony is jealous. **Chapter Six: All's well that ends well.** Movie-verse, so there are basic movie spoilers. Tony/Pepper
1. Plans are created

Like every other writer here. I saw Iron Man last week and can't get it out of my mind. I hope everyone enjoys.

5-12: I got home today and saw that I uploaded the pre-edited version. I'll try not doing that...

Disclaimer: I don't own Iron Man. I think I will go cry now...

* * *

Tony Stark is my **employeer**.

He is also my friend, but that is it. He is not my brother. He is not my crush. And he is most definitely not the man I love. Nope, nada, negative, no.

I do not love Tony Stark. I grind the heels of my palms into my eyes, tattooing the statement into my brain. Just keep saying it and it will be true. Like I always tell Tony, just stick to the cards and everything will be fine.

That is what I tell myself, every time that he would give me that sexy yet sweet lopsided smile of his. Every time he would look at me like I was Wonder Woman just because I left a handful of Tylenol and an orange juice by his bed after a "busy" night. Every time he would say something ridiculous or crazy and know that I would follow him to the ends of the world.

It's just gotten worse since he came back to me-I mean us-came back to us, you know the United States. I do not love Tony Stark.

I can't. It entails far too much, much more than I have to give. It means that not only will I have to deal with Tony and all of his faults. Faults like his constant drinking, his penchant for (slutty) women, and his uncontrollable itch to piss off everyone around him (often including myself). Not only would I have to deal with all that but I would have to deal with loving Iron Man. And that is what I can't do.

I would never tell him, ever. But he was right, if I was with him I would worry all the time. I would tear my hair out every time he would walk out the door. Whenever I would hear a siren my heart would clench and I would lose the ability to breathe, too worried to waste time with silly things like breathing. And I just can't live like that. I can't, I won't.

That's why I am not in love with Tony Stark.

Plus, I can say with fair certainty that Tony Stark isn't in love with me. I mean he is the Tony Stark, not a name that is exactly associated with monogamy. I know he is attracted to me, probably since the first day, but I am pretty sure that passed (not that he doesn't make the half-hearted pass at me every once in a while). I think he sees me more as a best friend, like Jarvis or Rhodes. That night on the roof was just a friendly encounter it was just me blowing everything out of proportion (yeah, right). It was just an example of my overworked, over-wrought mind playing tricks on me.

Even if we did advance our relationship to the next level, it would affectively ruin any hopes I would have for a serious relationship with him. I would become just like all his other assistants before me, notches on his bedpost. I know that right now the friend/working relationship is the closest he will probably ever let me get to him, emotionally.

That is why I have a plan. The ever organized Pepper Potts has her own patented plan for not falling in love with Tony Stark, all written down and stored in my trusty Blackberry. Step One: eat tons of Chocolate Chunk ice cream. A girl needs strength for the road ahead. Step Two: all contact with Tony Stark should and will be professional. Step Three: get a LIFE, something she hadn't had in the seven year she had worked for Tony. Step Four: be able to look into Tony Stark's eyes and not feel like you are drowning. If one should accomplish all these steps then they are no longer susceptible to falling for Tony Stark. She should start a company, it would make tons of money.

So that is why I am dialing the number on the napkin in my hand. I have already been fairly successful in steps one and two (step two being the hardest because I still call Tony, Tony in my mind) so now I am moving on to step three.

I had gotten the number a week ago at **that** party. The one where I was left breathing erratically and pulling nervously at my dress for almost an hour, waiting for Tony to return with my much needed drink. Well I eventually realized I had been ditched and I had returned to the bar and down two martinis in ten minutes. Around this time one of Stark Industries' young CEO's had approached me. He was handsome and polite, but the entire time I had been counting the reasons he was less of man compared to Tony. So I barely registered slipping his number into my purse.

I did, however, remember him when I was going through my purse five days later. He was perfect. I knew he was just the springboard I needed to get out of my funk. So I had pulled out my cell phone and dialed the number.

And that I where I am now. Staring at the call button on my cell phone and calculating the probability that Tony will find out about my date. The odds were highly in his favor.

I closed my eyes and stabbed the button. No one could ever say that Pepper Potts wasn't determined. The phone rang once, twice, three times. Each time I repeated in my head: I do not love Tony Stark, I do not love Tony Stark, I do not love Tony Stark.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I love Pepper Potts. Simple really, I suppose I am so used to thinking and re-thinking every possibility that the beautiful simplicity of falling in love alluded me. Well, not anymore.

I put down my stylus and the 3-D image of the Iron Man suit flickers and then shuts down. I grab a rag and wipe my hands even though they aren't dirty. I feel the unexplained need to keep my hands occupied but strangely couldn't concentrate on work. Finding a new invention distracted him and if anything was new to Tony Stark it was love.

Now having made this fantastic self-discovery, I can't help the need to pick apart and master every aspect of it. Of course, the first question that comes to my mind is, does she love me? I throw down the rag and brush my hand over the arc reactor, similarly brushing away the question. Of course she loves me and if she doesn't then she will, I'll make her fall in love with me.

She will have her objections, undoubtedly. She will worry about my nature; my drinking, my women, my lifestyles. But she has to know that I would give up everything to make her happy. I haven't even wanted that way of life since my time in Afghanistan. Well, the women are still somewhat appealing and I have been pretty lonely late at night but it's not faceless women and body parts that I dream about. It's red hair and soft blue eyes that fill with determination every time I want to skip a meeting or forget to come to some art opening or foundation party. That's all I want or need. Because I have no doubt that this is a need. And if I need it, I get it.

So I now have a plan, Tony Stark's patented plan for making Pepper Potts fall in love. Step One: no parties, limited drinking, and **no **women. She needs to know that I am not that guy anymore, that I want more. Step Two: be sweet. Women like that in a man, right? I can't remember that last time I had a real relationship, apparently it isn't like riding a bike. Step Three: A romantic getaway. Hopefully by this time she won't be too averse to going away with me. Step Four: be able to look into Pepper Potts's eyes and actually know how she is feeling, to know that she loves me. This plan will most definitely remain top secret; no one is going to be loved by Pepper but me.

"Jarvis!"

"Yes, sir." The computer seems to be able to read my thoughts of love and I can detect a bit of mirth in his tone. I wonder if I was speaking out loud.

I grab a t-shirt and toss it on. "Where is Pepper right now?" Okay, maybe it's "morally" wrong to have put a tracking device on her cell phone but with my recent announcement it's better safe than sorry. She will never ever know, ever.

"Sir," Jarvis's voice brings me out of my moral re-compassing, "Ms. Potts is currently at home. Would you like me to get her on the line?"

"No…yes…no, no. I'll wait until I see her tomorrow. Thank you, Jarvis."

"Sir, if you have something important to say to Ms. Potts then you should tell her right away." There is definitely a hint of mirth in his voice now.

"Jarvis," I say with amazing calm, "I do not believe that I will wake Ms. Potts at," I glance over at the clock on the computer, "1:00 in the morning. Good Lord, is that the time? Jarvis it is far past the time that good little boys should be in bed, so…" I make a broad gesture, I can feel that Jarvis is in a mood and I know that retreat is really the only option at this point.

"Sir, I don't believe that I have to iterate the fact that you are in no way able to be considered a "good" boy."

"I am mis-understood. It happens to be very sexy. I am, however, a very tired boy, with a busy day tomorrow. So, if you would be so kind as to shut down all systems for the night I believe I will turn in."

"Of course sir."

"Thank you, Jarvis."

There is a long silence, but I can strangely tell that the computer has more to say. "Sir, I hope that all plans for tomorrow go well. They sound very important." The computer's voice is drenched with mirth. When did I install a smart ass program.?

However, I do smile wide. "Yes, tomorrow's plans are important. Top priority."

* * *

Please R and R!


	2. Plans are tweaked

Two in one day. I am a writer on steroids, but these characters are so much fun to write. Oh and I fixed my first chapter, it was the crappy version. So check it out if it really bugged anyone. Enjoy!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Something is wrong, with Pepper.

Yes, I do realize that the past few weeks have not been the most relaxing (although that is certainly not my fault, I didn't ask Obi to go bat-shit and try to take out half of Malibu). But this isn't overworked Pepper. I have seen that Pepper, very scary, don't want to go there again.

No, this Pepper is just quiet and professional. Not that she isn't usually professional but she gives me at least a small smile when I make a joke or if I'm lucky she will even give a witty comeback to one of my remarks. This Pepper is completely professional, no smiles, no remarks, not even an annoyed look.

Thinking back, she has been like this the past few days. I guess I hadn't noticed or just chalked it up to exhaustion. And she had never been **this **aloof. I can't help but wonder if she is responding to my behavior. Although I find that there was nothing particularly wrong with it.

Maybe I freaked her out, made her gun shy. Perhaps I shouldn't have casually swung my arm around her shoulders. Or maybe it was when I asked her to eat lunch with me in the kitchen. Or maybe when I pulled out her chair for her to sit down. Or maybe…I feel a massive headache coming. I wonder if it would be unprofessional to ask Pepper to get me some Tylenol.

"Mr. Stark?"

I shoot my head up and the source of several of my aches is standing in the doorway of my workshop. God she is beautiful. Is that really what I think every time I see her. That would piss her off. Oh shit, she talking to me. I better pay attention.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't listening." (I was too busy mentally groping you.)

I can see her eyes twitch with the effort not to roll her eyes. Yes! My Pepper is in there somewhere and she is begging her knight in red and gold armor to come and rescue her. Probably not, but a guy can dream.

"Why, am I not surprised?" Her professional tone slips and I can hear her entire attitude shift.

"Because you know that I have the attention span of a twelve-year-old. A very dashing twelve-year-old."

She grins sardonically. "You're half right."

I pause reveling in the banter. "You're right. I would say I have the attention span of a fourteen-year-old." I pause for dramatic effect, "I am still very dashing."

There was a long silence, in which she watched me. I tried to keep her gaze but found that I was getting inexplicably warm. I break away from her laser-eyes and tap at the reactor. There is an awkward pause. I desperately try to think of something to say but all I can concentrate on is the happy little voice in my head saying: _she didn't deny it, she didn't deny it, she didn't deny it!_

Pepper finally broke the silence and cleared her throat. "Well," she continued with the same professional monotone, "I was saying that Time just called and…what are you doing?"

Finally having regained my ability to think coherently I had gotten up and crossed the room so I was only a few steps away from her. I smile to myself, she is freaked out. I feel my smile get wider. "Nothing," I say in my most normal tone of voice, completely devoid of the mischief I am feeling. I move steadily closer to her.

"Uh-huh." She gives me a familiar look of disbelief. She takes a moment before continuing in the exact same tone she had used before. "As I was saying, Time called and said that they wanted an exclusive. I know you said you didn't want to give out any interviews, ever. I however can't help but think that the press is going to start running some really wild stories. And you need all the good press you can get; you know the city can still sue you for the damages. They probably will if the public turns against you…" She continues talking but now I am definitely not listening. I am now right in front of her. She meets my gaze eye to eye, I still can't tell what she is feeling. I begin to circle her, like I would a painting or car I want to buy. She keeps her gaze forward, giving away no emotion. She's good.

She continues talking and I continue circling. I take in each aspect of her and memorize it, catalogue it, and store it for later use.

"…And the senator wants to bring the twins." I shoot may gaze back to her. There is humor and something else in her eyes. She finally gives me a smile.

"Well, Pepper. I definitely would like you to repeat that, you can go ahead and skip to the part about the twins."

Pepper's eyes glitter with their old humor and I feel a bit more at ease. "Mr. Stark, there will be no twins, that I know of, on the schedule. It did, however, seem affective in getting you to stop looking at me like was one of your cars on a lot."

I give her a wounded look. "Ms. Potts. You should know that if anyone wished to purchase you the price would be lavishly expensive for most men. However, your boss is known to have a certain personal weakness for anything lavish or expensive, and you certainly would fit the criteria." I give her a half-serious, half-joking look; trying to keep a casual demeanor but the truth is I hadn't been this nervous since jet pilots had tried to shoot me out of the sky. I can hear the pilot speaking to control. _Bogey at 12:00._

She pauses for a long moment and I can feel the knot in my chest tighten. Then she gets this determined and frighteningly single-minded look, she inches closer and I can see her every cog in her beautiful mind turning. She moves closer; feet, inches, centimeter, decimeters, millimeters. I lose the ability to breathe. _Sir, I have the boogie in range._ "Mr. Stark," her eyes burn holes into mine. _Target locked. Fire. _"I believe that I am way out of even **your** expansive price range." Her body brushes slightly against mine as she turns and saunters up the stairs. _Sir, target has been destroyed. I repeat target has been destroyed._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Breathe. In and out. Come on Potts. You mastered how to do this years ago.

Yeah but I have never had to breathe after practically being on top of Tony Stark. Not surprisingly, the man has the ability to make any women forget how to use her lungs. Air is finally beginning to fill my lungs and enough oxygen is returning to my brain for me to realize what I had just done.

I had just completely blown steps two through four of my plan. Key elements. Damn him.

It really is all his fault. He attacked me and my precious plan the moment I walked into his god-forsaken home. I was attacked! And a girl has the right to defend herself.

The moment I walked into his house I knew he was up to something. The house smelled like flowers and was actually somewhat tidy, tidier than what he calls "bachelor chic". Yet, I wasn't too suspicious. I must be losing my edge. Before Tony I could spot danger a mile away. I guess that working with the walking danger that is Tony Stark kinda desensitized me to the signs of an approaching storm.

For four hours I was able to work with no distractions-i.e. Tony. It was almost lunch time when he entered my office. No entered doesn't describe it. Tony never enters a room; he crashes, he stumbles, he saunters, and (in conjunction with copious amounts of alcohol) he has been known to skip. I would have to say that on this day he glided, like he was too important to walk, into my office.

He looked delicious as usual. Hey, I am a health heterosexual woman, okay! I would honestly have to be blind or in some serious type of denial to not admire his physique. However, what sets me apart from every other woman who has been in his life is that I am able to control my baser instincts. Instincts that want to throw him onto my desk and…well you get the idea.

He said nothing at all when he entered my office but only watched me watch him intently. I raised my brows and took a mental breath.

"Is there something I could help you with, Mr. Stark?"

His eyebrows furrow and for a moment I wonder if he is finally going to call me on the whole "Mr. Stark" thing. He doesn't but he does cross over so he is standing in front of my desk. My body shifts at his proximity and I wonder why he still is able to make me lose my equilibrium because it isn't because I love him. Because I don't.

"Yes Ms. Potts. You could be so kind as to accompany me to lunch."

I know that my eyebrow must have jumped up into my bangs and I am fairly sure that my mouth dropped. He doesn't looked too smug so I must have some kind of strange jaw control that I am unaware of. I should look into that.

I clear my suddenly constricted throat. "Mr. Stark, in case you are unaware, you have only five days ago announced to the world that you are a flying superhero. Unlike you, I believe that most restaurant patrons have probably turned on a television to something besides Sports Center, so I am certain that any outings for you would be a rather public affair. Something you should be avoiding." I clear my throat again, wondering if that sounded as ridiculous to him as it did to me.

"Nice speech." Apparently it did. "And I have thought those very same thoughts. That is why I cooked for us an excellent lunch."

Now I know that my jaw dropped.

"Uhhh…" I trailed off smartly. Like a predator, Tony saw that his prey was weak and swooped in for the kill. He came around the desk, swung his arm around my shoulders (any progress I was making in speech was derailed at this point), and led me to the kitchen.

There in his half a million dollar kitchen was a lovely lunch of peanut butter jelly sandwiches, Doritos, and Crystal Lite. My heart gave a flutter at the sweetness of the gesture. I know for a fact that Tony's culinary skills are limited to dialing the number for Chinese take-out.

"Okay, so maybe excellent was a slight exaggeration but it is edible. I tested two practice sandwiches myself." I glanced over at him, he looked like a sweet little boy and my professional demeanor melted.

"Thank you, it looks great."

His grin was infectious and I felt myself smiling, even as the little feminist in me screamed at me to get a grip. I told her to piss off, for now. Tony surprised me further and pulled out the chrome chair for me to sit in. I gave him a curious look but said nothing.

Lunch was nice but it would have been much better if there was a 5-ton elephant sitting in the room bugging me for a bit of peanut butter. Needless to say there was a palpable awkwardness. He would start a conversation, I would give one word answer (I wasn't capable of much else), and then the room would fall silent for at least ten minutes before he started another equally awkward conversation.

After lunch, Tony stayed to clean up and I went to get some more paperwork done but knew that I was probably going to spend an hour just sitting and re-building whatever's left of my professionalism.

By six, I had a fair amount of my control and I felt I was ready to give him his messages. But when he got that close to me, so close that I was feeling all the heat rolling off him and I could smell every scent coming off his body. When he started circling me like prey and talking in that low, gritty voice, I snapped. Right there. I was just retaliating. All's fair in love and war. I mean war, just war.

As I run up the stairs and away from the current object of my rapidly growing lust, I can't help but be grateful for my date tomorrow night with Oliver. At the very least it will get my mind off Tony Stark. Hopefully, but it is so hard to forget that smile or those eyes or-DAMN IT!

Fine. Tony Stark if you want a fight, then you had better prepare yourself for a war. I can't help but pump my fist in the air as I close the front door of that god-forsaken house.

* * *

Please R&R. It's like marijuana, it's a gateway drug.


	3. Plans are stabbed in the heart

Okay, sorry it took so long to get this up. The next chapter should be up soon too. Thank you all so much for the reviews you make me want to do a happy dance! Anyway sorry this chapter is such a downer, the next few will be downers too, so... Review!

Oh and I apologize but there is bad language in this chapter, but it isn't too much. Sorry, but that's why it's rated T.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He's too short.

Yeah, that's it. That is the only reason I'm not crazy about Oliver. I mean, he is funny, smart, kind, and incredibly handsome. The only reason that I struggle to stay awake during our dates is because he is nearly an inch shorter than me. That's why. It's not like I'm in love with anybody else, so it must be the height thing. I think I'll start wearing shorter heels on our dates.

Tony is a couple inches taller than me even with my tallest heels. Damn him.

"That'll be nice don't you think?"

My head snaps up and I stare at Oliver for a few minutes blinking like I had just walked into a bright room. I watch him and I see how utterly handsome he is. He is the same age as me, 32, and he has the good looks of a model. By appearance he was technically more handsome than certain people…like my boss. But he didn't have the charming smile or the easy demeanor or the intensity that made Tony Stark the most desirable man in the world. The man before me is vanilla ice cream, it tastes delicious, but it always comes in second to chocolate. Vanilla was waiting for me to respond.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

Oliver sighs and gives me a small, tolerant smile. Oh, did I mention that this guy is nicer than Gandhi and Pope John Paul II combined? What is wrong with me? "Are you okay, Pepper?"

He gives me a look that makes me wonder if he can read my thoughts. I avoid his gaze and pick up a French fry, stuffing it in my mouth while trying to give him a quizzical look. I probably just look constipated.

"I mean," he continues, "we have been dating for a few weeks now and I feel like you hardly ever talk." He pauses and stares down at his plate, carelessly pushing the food back and forth. It inexplicably annoys me. "I feel like I am the only one ever speaking. I understand why you don't talk about work but I don't know why that should completely derail our conversations."

After he finishes his little speech, he stares at me until I return his gaze. I sigh and say without thinking, "We've only been dating for two weeks, it feels like forever." My eyes go wide at what I said and my chest constricts but Oliver beams at me. Thank god, he thought that was a good thing. But I didn't mean it in that romantic "I feel like I have been with you" forever way, it was the "Last day of school watching the clock get slower and slower as the end of the day approached" forever.

Oliver seems satisfied with my answer and he goes back to prattling on about his summer in Prague or Rome. I let my eyes gaze over and I feel like I **am** back in school, waiting for the day to end. I go over my schedule in my head and I realized I shouldn't have gone out to lunch. Tomorrow was the party for the new museum opening and there was so much she should be doing right now. There were the caterers to double check with, the musicians, and the ice sculpture was yet to be finished.

"Oliver," her date stopped mid-sentence and looked at her with a question in his eyes. "Hey, I gotta get going, there is still so much I have left to do for the party tomorrow and I really can't let it sit anymore. Do you think you can get the check?" I stand and busily put my cell phone into my purse. Is it bad that I keep my phone right by hand during on all my dates with Oliver? Yeah, it probably is.

He stands too and pulls me close to him. "I would love to get the check," he says in a low voice. I feel nothing but slightly worried that I will fall because my heels were currently bent at an odd angle. He takes my wobble as attraction and pulls me into a forceful kiss. I respond appropriately but all I can think about is if the caterer remembered that three of the dishes were to have no fish and whether the senator who was coming was allergic to basil or nutmeg. We pull back at the same time and I give him a sweet smile.

"Bye. I'll see you at the party tomorrow, okay." He nods and I kiss him lightly on the cheek.

I pull my sunglasses out of my purse as I walk out into the hot Californian sun. As I walk towards the valet, I hear familiar gunning of engines and I see a **very** familiar, expensive car driving away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Pepper! Pepper! Paging Dr. Pepper!"

I stop yelling and realize that if she didn't respond to that one then she is either gone or I have done something very wrong. I feel my shoulder droop. It has been three weeks since that day in the workshop and they hadn't talked about it at all. In fact, beyond the normal business stuff, they have hardly talked about anything. She had been completely cordial and perhaps even a little cold. And he had been too afraid to do anything beyond a half-hearted attempt at banter. He wasn't sure if he was afraid that she would shoot him down or that she would respond. Both we're pretty damn scary.

However, today he was feeling a little more brave and he wanted to see if they could have a repeat of their earlier lunch date. Yet he checked every room in the house and his faithful assistant was no where to be found.

"Jarvis!"

"Sir, Ms. Potts didn't say where she was going but she left an hour ago. I have already tracked her movements and she is currently at the Sandcastle restaurant."

I smile at Jarvis' ability to know what I am thinking, there is only one other person who can anticipate what he's thinking as well as Jarvis and she is currently eating lunch all by her lonesome.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, I run into my room and quickly throw on jeans and I sniff a T-shirt before pulling it on. Grabbing my leather jacket I call out to Jarvis, "Send all my calls straight to voicemail and lock up the workshop, thanks."

I hear Jarvis say, "Of course," before I hop into one of my favorite cars, a 2008 Bugatti Veyron, and peel out of the garage.

I feel a giddy nervousness as I drive closer to the restaurant. Jesus, I feel like I'm sixteen again. I wince inwardly, my teen years were not the best of my life. I was such a loser, not that it is surprising. How cool can a sixteen-year-old genius, whose knowledge of girls was all theoretical and not actual experience, be? I thank god that I grew out of the awkward tallness, the pimple-ridden face, and the inappropriate erections. I pause. Well, two out of three isn't too bad.

Yet, being around Pepper makes me feel just like that nerdy kid all over again. She doesn't fall over herself to please me like all the other women. From day one, no matter what I said, did, or didn't do she was always right there with me, or one step ahead of me. She throws me off balance, while at the same time keeps me from falling over. It's scary to admit, but she is the only one who really has the power to destroy me, with one look she can utterly devastate me.

With **that** happy thought in mind, I pull up to the restaurant. Not wanting to deal with the valet, in case she kicks me out of the restaurant I park across the street. There's a bounce in my step as I jay-walk casually towards the restaurant. I am only a few feet away when my Pepper-radar goes off and I see her sitting by the window.

She's not alone.

There's someone with her. A man. A handsome, young man.

My world tilts at a forty-five degree angle and I struggle to stay standing. My brilliant mind automatically accesses the situation before my eyes. My brain catalogues and categorizes the situation with frightening detachedness, my emotions still rolling around on the ground from the deadly knife wound to the heart.

His name is Oliver Harrison. He is thirty-two, the second most desirable man in Stark Industries. He is one of the board members, head of our energy technology division. A generally likable guy, very smart, the husband type. He was absolutely perfect.

My emotions finally have caught up and I feel the horrible urge to go into the restaurant and beat the living shit out of the perfect man. I don't do anything though. I just stand frozen and watch as Pepper, my Pepper, stands and is pulled into a passionate kiss by her date. My heart shatters into a million pieces.

The earlier urge to beat up the man is replaced with the drive to rip him apart limb by limb. However, I am still feeling like the nerdy sixteen boy, so I do what the boy would have done, I run away. I pivot on my heels and practically sprint to my car. I slam the car door and I peel out of the street, not caring about any traffic laws.

I get to my house in record time. I get out the car and slam the door close so hard that the entire car shakes. It feels satisfying.

I turn to my workshop and I calmly walk over to the worktable with various inventions I had been working on. I pick up a new prototype of a battery that could store enough energy to power a car for a week. I weigh it carefully in my hand. I suddenly see the searing kiss again. I can't take it anymore.

"FUCK!" I scream as I take the fragile battery and throw it against the wall, it shatters into thousands of un-repairable pieces. I lose it, I start to slam, throw, and destroy everything I can reach. The only thing saved was the suit and even then it was only because by the time I got to the suit I was totally drained of all energy.

When my workshop is only a battleground of destroys pieces of metal, I finally slump against the wall. No tears come, no words of lament, nothing. All I could think about was how stupid I was. I thought she loved me, I thought we had a chance, I thought we were meant to be together. I love her so much, and I wished she loved me too. But I was wrong, so damn wrong.

I kick at the remains of an innovative invention at my feet, before I get up and make my way to the kitchen.

"Sir?" Jarvis sounds tentative and I know he saw my little outburst. I don't answer him.

I open up several cabinets and pull out the largest bottle of scotch I can find and a glass. I remember the light kiss Pepper gave her lover and I roughly return the glass to the cabinet.

Taking a deep swig of the scotch, I make my way to my office, fully intending to drink until I can't see her soft face or her blue eyes anymore.

"Sir." Jarvis seems as worried as a computer can be. "Sir are you alright. Your vitals show you are in great distress. Your heart rate is—"

"Jarvis," I stop him mid-sentence, "fuck off." There is a long pause which, to me, sounded like Jarvis was sighing. I am left alone in complete silence.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Don't make Tony any sadder. Review.


	4. Plans hemmorage and die

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed. I love you all. Okay, so this chapter is a downer, again. Sorry to all those who wanted a quick resolution to the angst but torturing our heroes makes for such good drama. However the next chapters are much happier i promise.

Oh and another warning for language. This is the last time I promise.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It took five hours, forty-two minutes, and twenty-three seconds.

It took five hours, forty-two minutes, and twenty-three seconds for the worst pain of my life to subside to a painful blur and for the anger to bubble to the surface.

And I was pissed.

It was irrationally anger, even in my drunken stupor I knew that. But it was either irrational anger or unbearable pain and I wasn't ready to face the pain. The anger, like the glow that came from my chest, only held off the inevitable but I was going to avoid the pain for as long as I could. So this meant fuming in my office until the need to destroy something beautiful became too much to handle.

And the most beautiful thing I know of was currently three rooms down the hall.

She knew what this would do to me. She purposely went out today just so I would see them together. She is showing him off, trying to make me feels this way. She is worse than all those other women who try to get to me for my money. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her.

I hate her beautiful smile. I hate her soft voice. I hate her loving gaze. I hate everything about her.

I take a deep swig of the quickly disappearing bottle. The pain is slowly returning and not even the scotch is making it go away.

I look around desperately for a distraction. I fumble through the papers on my desk, every single one of the papers has her name on it. I clumsily go through my desk but she has left her mark on everything, either by the placement or the wrapping of fragile items or her neat signature at the bottom of every document he owned. She had wriggled into his life at sometime during the past seven years without him even knowing it. She had so integrated herself so deeply into his life that at this point there was no way she could be extracted from it without her absence seriously affecting his mental health.

And with Mr. Perfect in her life it is only a matter of time before she moves on and away from her crazy boss so she can go and live a perfect life with her perfect husband and her sure-to-be perfect children.

Well, I am not going down without a fight.

Full of whiskey courage and anger, I stormed out of my office and marched down three doors to where I knew she was working on some important thing or another.

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her. She looks so beautiful, especially when she looks as agitated as she does right now. She doesn't even look up when I entered the room. Her disregard of my presence sends a bullet of pain straight to my heart and further provokes the words that are about to come out of my mouth.

"Well, I'm surprised you're still here." Her head shoots up and she looks startled by my appearance. I realize I must look like death warmed over, what with the drinking and tenseness of my demeanor. However, her concern just makes me angrier and I continued. "Mr. Perfect busy tonight?"

Now she looks completely confused. "What are you talking about Mr. Stark?"

I feel like she slapped me. How dare she try to hide him from me? Why is she playing this little game? Can't she see that I am in pain? I cross the room in two drunken strides and I lower my voice, that is only slightly slurred. "I am talking about Mr. Oliver fucking Harrison."

She only reacts for a moment. Even in my haze I admire her professionalism, nothing ever rattles her. Well, not tonight. Tonight I am going to make her feel exactly what I am feeling. Tonight I am going to shake the unflappable Pepper Potts, even if it kills me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When I got back to Tony's the house was unexplainably quiet, usually there is loud music blasting down in the workshop or Tony screaming at the top of his lungs at someone. Quite often that someone is me.

Yet I desperately wanted to avoid my employer so I ran (or fast walked as quickly as a woman in three inch heels could) to my office and slammed the door shut before anyone realized I had returned.

I let out a sigh of relief when I finally made it to the sanctity of my office. These dates were starting to have a counter-productive effect. Instead of making me forget about a certain superhero, it now seems that all I ever think about is Tony Stark. It's an illness.

I growl softly in frustration. I just need some good old fashioned work to keep me occupied, that's all. I settle down at my desk and for the next five hours or so I lose myself in paperwork and phone calls. I fall into the oblivion of deskwork, so much so that I don't notice a very drunk Tony Stark stumble into my office until he speaks.

"Well, I'm surprised you're still here." My head snaps up and I am greeted by a drunk and apparently fuming man who may or may not be my boss, I had a hard time telling because it was a toss up between her boss or a bum. She would have believed either, his hair was sticking out like he had been running his hands through it, his eyes were watery and blood-shot, his jeans and T-shirt were rumpled and twisted, and he smelled like he had just rolled in a brewery. What startles me most though, is the malice and contempt in his eyes. A look I have never had directed by me. My blood runs cold and I remind myself that Tony would never physically hurt me. Yet more frightening than the anger, is another emotion that alludes me as to its identity.

He continues, "Mr. Perfect busy tonight?" I stare at him, what the hell is he talking about? Is this a drunken joke?

"What are you talking about Mr. Stark?" I ask calmly.

He looks like I punched him, the hurt in his eyes is palpable and I feel like I am drowning in a sea of sadness. The look is soon gone and replace once again by anger. I tense as he crosses the room towards me, my entire body on high alert. I know something is wrong, he is far too held together. Like the calm before the storm.

Now only a few feet away from me I can smell the bottle of scotch all over his breath. My eyes burn slightly from the stench.

He lowers his voice and I curse my weak body for trembling, although at this moment I'm not sure if it with lust or fear. "I'm talking about Mr. Oliver fucking Harrison."

The bottom of my stomach falls out and I flinch slightly at the biting tone of his words.

How the hell did he know about Oliver? Is this why he is so pissed? What the hell is going on? I feel my emotions running across my face and I quickly school them back to neutral.

Tony still gives away nothing but leans in just a bit closer to me. I am trembling again, but this time it is most surely from fear. In the seven years I have worked for Tony I have never seen him like this. It scares me.

He continues to speak in a growling voice. "How long have you been seeing him?" His casual question is given more weight by the menace in his tone.

Speaking with courage I didn't know I had I hotly retort, "I don't see how this is any of your business Mr. Stark. I am allowed to date, am I not?"

Professionalism seems to be the wrong tactic because he grips the side of my desk tightly before continuing through clenched teeth. "No, of course you are allowed to date. I was just wondering if leaving work to have your little 'get-togethers' was going to become a common practice?"

I flush at the insult to my work and I feel myself grow warm with anger. "Mr. Stark, I am allowed an hour lunch break by the law. And during this hour I am allowed to go out anywhere and with anyone I choose. With or without your consent."

"NO!" Tony yells and slams his fists down onto the desk making my picture frames rattle and fall. I take an unconscious step backwards but Tony just moves closer. "No, you can't. Don't you understand?" he asks in a whisper.

"Tony." I say his name softly, seeing an opening and wanting him to calm down. He looks startled by my voice and I see the sadness return to his gaze. His entire face seems to crumple and my heart breaks slightly for him. However, the sadness doesn't last long and the steel returns to his visage and the predator returns.

He closes the distance between us, we are practically touching. "Has he screwed you yet?"

The question takes me off guard and against my will I feel my eyes start to water. I will not cry in front of Tony Stark. I will not cry in front of Tony Stark.

"What did you say?!" The anger keeps my tears in check. I bring my hand up to slap him across the face but he anticipates the move and grabs my hand before I even graze his cheek.

My wrist still in his hold, he lets out a little growl. "You heard me. Have you fucked him yet. Or are you holding out on him, dangling it in front of him like a dog with a bone? Or did you do it the first night you met him?" He lets out a sneer that makes him seem inhuman. "I'm betting the first one, there's a reason everyone at the office calls you ice queen."

I feel like he kicked me in the stomach, all the air wooshes out of my lungs and I can't breathe. The anger is all I have and it gives me enough strength to continue.

I wretch my hand out of his grip but I don't step back. "Mr. Stark," I begin in the most neutral tone possible, it still wavers slightly with emotion, "contrary to your belief I do not belong to you and I never will. I am just your assistant, that is all. You have no right to tell me who I can and cannot see." My voice begins to waver uncontrollably with emotion but I continue. "If I want to fuck Oliver, I will, there is nothing you can say about it and you will just have to deal with it."

Tony seems unperturbed by my spiel, maybe even more resolute. Without warning he grabs my face and says in a harsh whisper. "I can't deal with it." Before I could respond in any way his mouth covers my own in a searing kiss.

My brain completely shuts off and I find myself frozen in time. The only sensation registering was Tony's lips over mine; I was completely unable to react. Tony, however, is determined and forces me to respond, not that it took too much. I slowly start to kiss him back with the same vigor, putting all my anger and passion and love into the kiss, clinging to him desperately.

The kiss starts of angry, another way for us to attack each other. Tongues battling for control and dominance, teeth biting lips, my nails digging into his arms. However, soon the kiss became soft and Tony's grip on me softened, kissing me softly like he was trying apologize. I let out a small moan of contentment. Kissing Tony felt so wonderfully right, better than any kiss I have ever had.

Tony moaned slightly in response to my vocalization. The small noise brought me crashing back to earth and I realized what I was doing. I was kissing my boss, the only man in the world who was off limits. The only man in the world who could break my heart. The only man that I love.

I pull away from him like I had been burned. We are breathing erratically, both trying to catch our breaths. I try to speak or do something. His intense gaze burns me and I finally realize what that other emotion was hiding beneath his anger. Love. Tony Stark loves me.

My eyes grow wide as I realize that all of Tony's cards are on the table. He is jealous, he wants me, he loves me.

As the realization sinks in I do what any woman would do when confronted by her worst fear. I run.

I sprint past Tony, even as I hear him call my name desperately. I run out to the front of the house, into my car, and I drive away as fast as possible.

I don't know where I am going but I eventually have to pull off to the side of the road because my tears are making it impossible to drive. Safely parked in a vacant lot, I drop my head to the steering wheel. All the emotions of the day flood back and I finally let it happen. I let my head rest on the steering wheel of my Audi and I cry. I cry for myself, I cry for Tony, I cry for everyone who's ever been in love. It's all I can do now.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

If you review, I promise to make Tony happy, in the next chapter!


	5. Tony's plans trump Pepper's plans

Thanks to all my amazing reviewers. You guys seriously make me so happy. Here is the next chapter, I hope you all like it and it lives up to your expectations.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Once, when I was eight, I had almost drowned. I'll never forget the experience. The flailing of arms, the desperate attempt to reach the surface, the taunting shimmering light of the world up above, the burn of water filling in my nose and trickling down to my lungs. I remember the little voice in my head screaming what I could not vocalize. _I am drowning. Please, someone help. I am dying, I can't breathe. I am going to die. I am drowning._ It was horrible; the most frightening experience of my life. But there was this moment, this split second, when the burning stopped and the fear dissipated that I felt alive. In that one moment I was so deliriously happy, I felt invincible and so high above everything I had even known, that I was content to die in a watery grave. Drowning was an experience I never again felt in the following 24 years of my life.

Until today.

I shake uncontrollably as I begin to apply my eyeliner, so much so that I am forced to drop the make-up and hold on to the counter table for dear life. _I am drowning._

I look up at my reflection, tears glisten brightly in my eyes. I will myself not to cry, not again. For the past three hours I have done nothing but cry and I refuse to do so any more. My iron-will stops the tears from breaking away from my lids but it does not stop the burning of my lungs. _I am drowning. Help, please. I am drowning._

With my emotions more under control I return to methodically dressing for the museum opening, or as I have come to call it "the showdown". Because I have no doubt that Tony Stark is going to come rumbling into that party looking for a fight. And like every confrontation Tony gets into, he out does me in strength and ammunition. _I am drowning. Please God, I need help. I can't breathe, I am going to die._

I am drowning. Sinking slowly, falling closer and closer to the bottom; a place where I won't be able to climb out of. If I let myself fall that far, I will be gone and unable to return to what I was before. And I am scared.

I slam my fist into my bathroom counter and I scream, "I am scared, shitless. Okay!"

And it was the truth, I feared nothing as much as I feared Tony Stark. I fear his intensity, his need, and his mission, but not his love. Because I don't love Tony Stark. I don't love Tony Stark. I don't—who the fuck am I kidding? I am so much in love with Tony Stark that it hurts, this hurts. It hurts to want him so much and to know that I could have him at any moment but am too afraid to take that step. I hurts to know that I have caused him so much pain. I hurts to know that, even if we are able to move on from this horrible episode, I will never be as happy alone, as I could be with him.

I just hurts. So damn much.

It takes me nearly an hour longer to get ready than it usually does but I eventually am able to pull myself together enough to get ready in time. I feel incredibly uncomfortable as I mingle among the guests, silently praying that Tony will skip this party like he does half the others. No such luck. I hear a loud gale of laughter coming from the center of the room. I don't even have to turn around to see who it is.

There is Tony in all his glory. He looks devastating in his tailored tux, his hair looking soft and inviting, and his entire aura exuding sexuality. Knowing that I could have all of that makes me weak in my knees and I search for a waiter, desperately needing a drink. A martini with lots of olives.

I silently edge away from the loud throng of people, trying to avoid any attention but Tony's Pepper radar kicks in and within moments I feel his burning gaze pierce me. _I am drowning._

He stares at me from across the room and I suddenly feel as though we are the only people in the room, in the entire world. I shiver with fear and anticipation, waiting for him to make the first move. He doesn't do anything; no arrogant smirk, no leering glances, not even the deadly gaze of his anger. Nothing. He just stares intensely before his attention is forced away by a couple of very top-heavy and very inebriated blondes. He only gives me one sidelong glance before turning his attention to the women and regaling them with a clearly hilarious story.

My heart stops, I feel so angry that my entire world is reduced to infra-red vision and is narrowed to include only the two sluttiest women I have ever seen. I clench my hands so tightly that I can feel my nails dig in deep enough to my skin to cause little bruises. As I feel my jealousy rise up in my body, I can hear an epic battle of wills begin in my head.

**Those sluts! I am going to kill them. Who the hell do they think they are?**

Well…we have no claim over him. He really isn't ours. Remember last night, when you ran out of his arms like he was on fire. Does that ring any bells.

**Screw last night. Right now I am going to rip them apart limb by limb. They are going to pay for touching my man. And Tony, he loves it. Look at how happy he is. He is just trying to pay me back for dating Oliver, I didn't purposely try to make him jealous. Asshole.**

Stop. We really can't, we have no right.

**Shut up, we have to do something. I am sick of every god-damn woman in the world having what is rightfully mine. We have stuck around for seven years, waiting for our turn. Well, guess what? No more waiting!**

There is a long pregnant pause and if my psyche could sigh it would have.

Well, if you must then please don't make too much of a scene.

My mind made up, I straighten my dress and march right over to their little happy group. Those bitches are going down!

"Tony, darling." I drawl as I sway up to them, feeling like a cat on the prowl. "Are these ladies going to be bringing our drinks any time soon?"

I shimmy up Tony's side; who, to my satisfaction, shivers like a tree in the wind. I look expectantly at the closest blonde woman and coolly say, "I would like a martini with extra olives, please."

The women look like I have smacked them across their faces. One of them tries to give a retort but just babbles off incoherently, looking to Tony for help. The other one, who was slightly less drunk, was able to affect a face of offence and indignantly replied, "We are not waitresses. We are friends of Tony. Isn't that right?" She too looks to Tony for encouragement or affirmation.

Before the dashing man beside me can utter a word, I jump in with my own catty reply. "Not anymore, you aren't." Their botoxed faces fell faster than Tony's stocks did the day he returned from Afghanistan. "Now," I continue, feeling more powerful than ever before, "you two lovely ladies are going to turn around and walk in the opposite direction. I can save you a lot of time and have a car outside waiting to take you anywhere you need to go. I can even have your dry-cleaning done." I pause for dramatic effect. "But if you come back and speak or touch Tony ever again, I will make sure that you will regret it for the rest of your sad, little lives. So again, for the cheap seats, walk the hell away."

Personally I don't think I could have run away that fast in four inch heels.

In retrospect, I should have thought out my little outburst better because I am now left alone with the one man in the world I fear. A man who just saw me have a little temper tantrum because I was jealous. A man who was currently rubbing my hip bone with his thumb in slow seductive circles. _I am drowning._

With my back still to him, I try to prepare myself for the fight, the resistance. But defending Tony from the blonde women has taken a lot out of me and I am not sure that I have the strength. Knowing I would have to face the music eventually, I swiftly turn around and hope that I have enough will power to hold out against his surely smug grin.

However, I am surprised to find that he doesn't look proud at all. He looks, for lack of a more descriptive word, happy. Incredibly, deliriously happy, like he was invincible and so high that coming down would be impossible. I see his happy smile, not grin but a smile, and every one of my defenses and reasons and fears melts away.

It's like I am drowning again but this time I have finally let go. Finally let myself fall and it is the most wonderful experience of my life. I am drifting and swaying, free from the worry and dread of struggling. No longer trying to fight the current but letting it wash over me. I know that, eventually, this deliriously wonderful feeling will end but as I slowly sink further and further away, I know that no matter what happens I would rather die in at the bottom of a watery grave than live without this feeling of pure joy for a moment longer. Why?

Because I love Tony Stark. I love Tony Stark. I love Tony Stark.

My emotions run across my face, clear as a bell and Tony squeezes me tighter. I give him a million-watt smile. "Hey, wanna dance?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Scared shitless.

Yes. That is an appropriate description of my current emotional state. And who could honestly blame me? For the past day and a half I have been alternately drinking myself into oblivion and driving myself crazy with thoughts of Pepper. Then I come to this party fully intending to find a blonde or a brunette (anything but a redhead) and screw her senseless. However my plans are completely railroaded by a very jealous and very hot Virginia Potts. I feel myself go warm with the memory of her outburst. Damn I have it bad and apparently so does she.

My heart flip-flops.

Why else would she storm over here and scare away a couple of women? Why else would she be looking at me like that? Why else would she smile so wide? Why else would she ask me to dance?

Dance? Oh yeah, I should probably respond to the lady's request.

I try to give her my best "playboy grin" but I probably look like a little an awkward little boy. "Are you trying to hit on your boss, Miss Potts?"

She gives me a small but seductive smile. "Tony, if I was trying to hit on you, you would know it." I am shaking in my boots.

I do, however, lead her silently to the dance floor just as a soft ballad begins to play. She wraps her arm around my shoulders and I pull her to me as close as decency would allow, although he was pretty sure his sense of decency and the rest of the world's was slightly different. The music is slow and deep, we seemed to be moving in time so perfectly with the music that it was unbelievable. I could feel everything; her small body, her soft hair grazing my cheek, and her graceful hand stroking my back. I feel a little dizzy.

She opens her mouth to speak but I cut her off. "No. Not yet, I am not ready. If this is all I have I want to remember this moment for ever. I don't want to forget how you feel." My words cause her to sway and shiver but this instills in me none of my usual smugness, okay maybe a little bit, but I mostly feel happy that she shares at least some of my feelings.

Last night, when she ran out on me, I had gone out of my mind. I had felt horrible over the way I had treated Pepper, I was feeling the same jealous and anger from earlier, and I was still reeling from the most intense kiss of my life. I probably got ten minutes of sleep last night. If I wasn't thinking about her incredibly soft lips or the frightened look that she gave me right before she ran out of my house, I was thinking about her using those same lips to kiss Mr. Harrison or any other man while I sadly watched on. It was a hell only matched by a rat-hole in Afghanistan.

The music stops and I am pulled out of my thoughts. "How about a little air?" I smile at the familiar line.

She remembers as well and grins. "Yeah, I need some air." Smiling we walk out to the edge of the party and onto the balcony.

Now completely alone the awkwardness sets in. She walks over to the edge of the balcony and looks at everything but me. I have no idea what to say, again I feel like I am sixteen. I fidget uncomfortably with my hands. What should I say? Should I just tell her how I feel? Should I wait? Damn.

"Now, was that so completely horrible?" I ask.

Pepper finally looks at me. I am surprised not only by the look of happiness on her face but the deadly look of determination. She begins to speak and I try to cut her off.

"Because we could go back and…"

"I love you, Tony."

Wait. Pause. Rewind. Play.

I am dumbstruck. She couldn't have just said that, could she?

"Wh-What did you say?" I am so excited and confused that I am not even remotely embarrassed by my stuttering.

Pepper glows bright red and she looks away, playing with her hands. "I know it isn't the best way to tell you and you are probably still mad at me for before. And I completely know how you feel now. And I really am sorry for that, I never did it to hurt you or make you jealous, I'm not like that. I know that you might not still feel the same—." I cut her off by putting two fingers over her lips.

I know that I must be grinning like an idiot but I can't help it. She is so amazingly wonderful and perfect that I am dizzy with joy. "I will always love you." I say it calmly and with such conviction that I know if I were ever to speak the truth, this would be it.

Pepper face breaks out into a small, sweet, and true smile, one that breaks my heart and repairs it at the same time. Without another word she cups my face in her hands. My stomach breaks out in butterflies. She moves closer until her lips are only millimeters away, then she pauses. I can't breathe, she is waiting for me, she is asking my permission. She should know she never has to ask.

With a swoop of my head I capture her lips in mine and clutch her close to me. Unlike their first kiss, there was no rush, no hurry, no anger. He wasn't Tony Stark or Iron Man. She wasn't his assistant or his side-kick. Just a man and a woman in love.

I marvel at every curve and plane and angle I feel. She is perfect, her body molds to mine like a jigsaw puzzle. I am falling deeper and deeper into the kiss and far too soon we have to pull away to breathe.

We say nothing, each of us just standing there trying to catch out breaths. It is magical.

Pepper recovers first. "Want to get out of here?"

I am grinning like the lucky son of a bitch I am. "Miss Potts I don't know what kind of man you think I am but I don't put out on the first date."

She steps close to me and I pull her into my embrace. She whispers, "I had hoped that in my case you would have made an exception."

I make a face of concentrated consideration. "Well, just for you."

She giggles, my Pepper giggles. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

I pause and consider her statement. "There is **one** person I want to tell." Before she can ask what I mean, I return to the party and search the room until I find a certain Stark employee. "Yo, Ollie! You'll never guess what just happened!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thanks, so much to all reviewers. The next chapter is the last but I have a bunch of ideas for another story and I wanted my reader's opinions. I have an idea for a really fluffy story, that follows Pepper and Tony's relationship from the first day she came to work for him. Or I have a really angsty story waiting in the wings. Tell me what you all think! d--b


	6. Plans decide on a corny ending: Epilogue

Okay guys. So here is the last chapter. It is just a little epilogue but I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks so much to all my reviewers, especially midnightrose45 who inspired this ending. I love you all so much and hopefully my next story will be up by next week.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"HEEEEEEELLLLLLLLPPPP! Pepper!"

Tony Stark meandered around his Malibu mansion, his shoulders slumped and obviously bored. He peered in every room on the first floor, stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and, lacking the motivation to move on to the second, called again. "Pepper!"

"WHAT?!"

Tony winced and momentarily regretted not making the trek upstairs. However, he realized that she was probably going to be pissed off at him anyway and at least down here he was out of range of any flying objects. So he continued to yell. "What's my pin number for the Visa?"

There was a long pause and Tony smiled imagining the woman upstairs rolling her eyes in aggravation. "I don't know off the top of my head?" Pepper's voice was full of agitation and Tony grinned, he was always right. "It's in my Blackberry."

"Will you get it for me?" He said in his most pleading (whining) voice.

Pepper's answer was instant and forceful. "No."

Tony pulled himself up to full height and affected his best hick voice. "Woman, who is the boss around here?"

He paused expecting a furious response. However, a moment later a very angry and very pregnant Pepper waddled into his view at the top of the stairs. She didn't looked pissed, just annoyed. "Who's the one currently carrying 50 pounds of extra weight more commonly known as your child, Mr. Stark?"

Tony beamed, he loved being reminded that Pepper Stark, formerly Potts, was carrying his child. "Excellent point Mrs. Stark. To you I concede victory of this debate." Pepper's annoyed expression faded away and she smiled sweetly. Tony continued, "Now, where does your Blackberry happen to be, so I can remove much needed cash from my bank account."

Pepper was already waddling back to the master bedroom and she called over her shoulder. "It's in my office, top drawer on the right."

"Aye, aye," Tony called.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tony pushed open the door to his wife's office. He didn't often come here but every time he did he enjoyed it. The room screamed Pepper and it always seemed far more comfortable and welcome than his own office. This feeling probably had nothing to do with the fact that their child may have been conceived on one of the surfaces of the room.

Smiling to himself, Tony began to rummage through the top drawer. Finally, he located her Blackberry and triumphantly flicked it on. He quickly maneuvered his way through the main menu and was soon browsing through Pepper's notes.

He casually skimmed through the names of each note before one name caught his eye. Top Secret. Tony's interest instantly peaked; he had to know what Top Secret meant. His fingers itched with the need to click the button and satisfy his burning curiosity. Well, his pin number would be Top Secret, so Pepper could have conceivably put it in that file. Tony, pleased that he had evaded any possible self-induced guilt trips, looked around the room and the clicked on the Top Secret file.

What appeared on the screen was titled "Pepper Pott's patented plan for not falling in love with Tony Stark". Tony quietly read through the four step plan, even the little part about selling her system. 'Well, she would've made a lot of money,' thought Tony to himself. He was in the middle of reading Pepper's pre-written draft of her apology letter to her last boyfriend, Oliver, when a voice interrupted him, just as he had gotten to her offer to repair Oliver's suit that had gotten torn in the little fight he and Tony had gotten into at the infamous party.

"Daddy! Daddy, where are you?" A moment later a small head peaked into the office. "Daddy!" The little girl at the door launched herself at Tony and was soon crawling all over him.

"Watcha doin' Daddy?"

Tony grinned at the small girl in his arms. She was the most beautiful child in the world. A perfect blend of her parents, she had her mother's hair and light complexion but she had her father's dark, mischievous eyes. She was brilliant, precocious, and just a little spoiled. To her father, she was the most wonderful child in the world.

Tony hugged his daughter closer to him. "Right now, Daddy is learning that Mommy has only made one mistake in her life. Do you want to know what the mistake was, Anna?"

The little girl pulled away from her father's chest and nodded, while simultaneously tapping on the metal on her dad's chest.

"Your Mommy underestimated how persistent your dad is."

The little girl looked up at Tony. "Persistent means annoying, doesn't it?"

Tony smiled and nodded in agreement. "I guess it does."

"I knew it." Anna paused and seemed to be considering something. "I think I know everything," she stated in a matter of fact tone.

Tony burst out in full-blown laughter. When he finally was able to breathe he gasped, "It runs in the family."

The girl said no more and continued to play with the glow from the reactor. Tony returned to the phone and, his curiosity satisfied, exited out of "Pepper Pott's patented plan for not falling in love with Tony Stark". He was in the middle of locating his pin number when Anna spoke up, with a look of panic on her face. "Daddy, didn't you say we could go to the toy store. If we don't leave now they will all be sold out soon!"

Tony rolled his eyes. "I know, sweetheart, that's what I'm trying to do right now." He found the number, wrote it down on a piece of paper, and stood up, lifting his daughter with him. "What I don't understand is why we have to buy an Iron Man action figure when you have the real life Iron Man in your house."

The girl wigged out of her dad's grip and took his hand before laughing, "Daddy, don't be so silly. You are too big to fit in my doll-house. How are you supposed to save all my dolls if you can't even fit into their city." She gave him a 'duh' look.

Grinning like fool, Tony answered, "Oh, of course, how stupid of me. I'm sorry."

Anna gave a care free-laugh, reminiscent of the man standing next to her. "It's okay Daddy, life isn't perfect."

Tony smiled and picked up his baby girl. "No, but I'd say it's pretty damn close."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Super corny ending. Sorry. Anyway. Please review, I'm not above begging. Or bribery, (all twenty-two dollars and forty three cents will be yours dear reviewers).


End file.
